


A Very Warm Welcome

by ZaliaChimera



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Affection, Aftercare, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Ass Play, BDSM, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Cock Bondage, Cock Cages, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content, Gags, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Porn, Safewords, Sex, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spitroasting, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, mention of Carolina/Wash, mention of Kimball/Wash, mention of Maine/Wash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaliaChimera/pseuds/ZaliaChimera
Summary: Tucker returns home to find his lovers have left him the best present ever.





	A Very Warm Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> The other pairings mentioned are only mentioned in passing and are not an integral part of the fic. The idea is that everyone is living together, sleeping together, in various combinations. And sometimes Wash likes getting tied up in the lounge and fucked by whoever is there.

"Now that's a nice sight to come home to."

Tucker slides a hand over the curve of Wash's ass. it's already red and tender looking. Kimball's handiwork from the look of it. Damn, the woman can hand out discipline. Hand of fucking steel.

Wash squirms when Tucker gives his ass a smack for good measure, a whine escaping from behind the gag in his mouth. Not much he can do about it anyway, when he's cuffed to the stockade in the communal room. Legs spread wide, and he's bent over so he's at just the right height to be fucked.

Might already have been fucked actually, if the few spots along his ass and thighs that haven't been properly cleaned up are to be believed. Maybe Maine; the plug he's got in his ass is big enough to keep him ready for Maine. Or maybe Carolina got out one of the big toys and someone just watched.

"Did you deserve it?" Tucker asks, enjoying the way that Wash shivers, ready for it even now. He always is.

"Yes. He did." 

Tucker turns to face Locus, standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. "What did he do that got him locked up this time?"

"Used all of the hot water. This was deemed a suitable punishment.”

“Punishment, right…” Tucker drawls as he gives Wash’s ass another squeeze. Like Wash totally hadn’t used the water on purpose to end up in this exact position. As if in answer to his thought, Wash wriggles his ass back against Tucker’s hand, begging for it. He’s sure that if Wash wasn’t gagged, he would be grinning right now, and probably egging Tucker on. 

“You been on Wash duty all day?” They always have someone stick around when one of them has a play day, keep an eye on whoever it is, make sure they’re safe and can get out if they need to. Especially when it’s Wash. He can get a little stuck in his head sometimes.

Locus nods and then vanishes again for a moment, only to return a second later with a glass of water with a straw in it. “He’s had quite a busy day.”

“I bet he has. It’s about to get busier.” 

Locus snorts softly as he crosses to Wash’s side. Tucker watches as he unfastens the buckle that’s holding the gag in face, and then eases the ball out of Wash’s mouth. Locus has great hands. Broad and strong and surprisingly gentle when taking care of one of them, considering Locus is a trained killer. He can’t look away, watching as Locus massages Wash’s jaw. Must be aching after being gagged for so long. Locus holds up the glass with the straw to Wash’s lips and lets him drink, one hand running through Wash’s hair the whole time.

It’s only when Wash is done that Tucker reaches out to play with the butt plug lodged in his ass. He twists it sharply and hears Wash gasp. That just encourages him. He thrusts the plug shallowly into Wash’s hole until Wash starts trying to rock against it. And then Tucker stops and shoves it back inside him.

“You getting worked up there, Wash?” Tucker asks. He glances up at Locus who is watching, something hungry in his eyes. “How’s he looking, Locus?”

Locus leans down and grasps Wash’s chin, tilting his head back. “He looks like a slut.”

Tucker feels Wash’s breath catch, the way his chest jumps. Of all the kinks that he’d expected Agent Washington to have, this was not it. He’d expected bondage, because hell, who doesn’t? And he’d had a suspicion that if Wash got spanked he’d go to pieces. But the dirty talk? The being tied up in the lounge for anyone to use like this? Yeah, that had come as a surprise.

Tucker loves it. Loves that Wash seems so much more relaxed these days, with all of them around. Loves that he sleeps better, actually eats meals with them, and doesn’t train himself to the point of collapsing. 

Peace is a good look on him.

And if part of that peace involves occasionally getting tied up and played with by whoever is home, then Tucker is happy to indulge.

“Well, if that’s how he looks, it would be rude not to take advantage.”  
Locus huffs a soft laugh, and while the grip on Wash’s chin looks harsh, the hand that runs through his hair is infinitely gentle. 

“What do you want, Wash?” Tucker asks as he presses up against his backside, letting Wash feel the hardness pressing through his jeans. He can’t wait to get them off, but god, he wants to get Wash worked up, just a bit more. 

Wash gives a low whine and tries to press back. 

“Use your words, Agent Washington,” Locus says in that commanding tone of voice that had been terrifying once, but now is enough to make Tucker’s cock twitch. Ugh, the man could read the driest academic paper about economics and probably get Tucker off. 

“Please,” Wash gasps. “Fuck me.”

“I mean, I can do that,” Tucker replies. He pulls away and goes over to the table of toys, running his hand over them. “Plenty of choice. Could work one of these into you and turn up the vibration while I go get a coffee. You want that?”

The noise Wash makes is pure frustration, but Tucker doesn’t move back. Wash needs to ask for what he wants. That’s something they’re still working on with him, getting him to ask for what he needs and what he wants, instead of bottling it up like he doesn’t deserve to have them answered. It’s frustrating at times, but right now? Right now it’s kind of fun.

Locus is still touch him, one large hand stroking Wash’s cheek and then lower. Looks like a caress but Tucker knows he’s subtly checking on Wash’s condition too. 

“I want you to fuck me, Tucker,” Wash says again. As Tucker watches, he turns his face against Locus’s hand, flicks his tongue out against his palm. Locus shudders. If Wash gets turned on being treated like a toy, then Locus’s undoing is affection and a few well timed touches can drag him apart far more quickly than any number of games. 

“That’s the plan, Wash,” Tucker says. A smirk crosses his face. “So which toy is it?”

Wash’s head droops, another of those noises leaving his mouth. Tucker fucking loves it. he doesn’t think there’s another sound so sweet. “Put your goddam dick in me, Lavernius, I swear to god…”

He has to laugh. God, he loves it when Wash gets to snapping point like that. Sure, he could tease more, but this is enough. He returns to Wash’s side and strokes a hand over his ass again. 

“You going to be good and take care of Locus too?” The fervent nodding accompanied by a moan, is answer enough, and Tucker bends over to press a kiss against the base of Wash’s spine. 

He nods at Locus, and is treated to the sight of Locus sliding down his black jeans, and oh god, he’s wearing the ones that fit him like a second skin. One day, Tucker swears, he is going to get Locus into a pair of leather pants at which point he may cream himself just from watching him put them on. Look, the guy has fucking amazing calves, and thighs that Tucker wants to bury his face against.  
And then there’s his cock. Locus is already hard; can’t blame him when he’s been watching Wash get fucked and played with all day. Hell, Tucker’s been hard pretty much since he walked in the door and saw the plug in Wash’s ass. Tucker’s gaze runs greedily over Locus’s cock as he tugs down his underwear, and he has no doubt that Wash is doing the same. He’s big and thick and dark and part of Tucker wants to switch places with Wash so he can wrap his lips around it and watch Locus react.

“You’re staring,” Locus says, a curl of amusement to his voice. 

Tucker grins in response. “Hell yeah I am. Wash is staring too. You’re worth staring at.”

He thinks he spots a faint darkening of Locus’s cheeks. Yeah, Tucker likes seeing that. It’s harder to make Locus blush, more of a challenge, more of a reward when he does. Locus glances down at Wash, like he’s checking the truth of Tucker’s words. Tucker can imagine Wash’s expression; he’s probably practically drooling, desperate for Locus to fuck his mouth. 

But there’s more to the show than that. Tucker slides down his jeans, easing them over his cock with a hiss. it springs free, rising slowly from confinement. Now he’s the one getting stared at. He struts around the stockade to press himself up against Locus’s side, making sure that Wash can see him. “Like what you see?”

“Very much.” The way that Locus’s throat bobs is entrancing and Tucker wants to bite his Adam’s apple. Why hold back? He leans up, has to stand on tiptoe, and Locus tilts his head back to let him, groaning as Tucker’s teeth close against his neck, sucking a bruise against his skin. There, much better.

“How about you, Wash?” Tucker asks, turning his attention to the bound man who is staring at them both with rapt attention. His cock, bound with a series of metal rings, is hard and red and leaking. He’s gonna come so fucking hard when he’s finally allowed.

“Oh god, Tucker, please,” Wash says. his tongue flicks over lips which have been left swollen by whoever used him before. “Please just fuck me already, both of you.” His words trail into a whine of pure need. How can he refuse that? He's not a monster?

Tucker trails a hand down the length of Wash’s back, feeling sweat-slick skin. He wraps his fingers around the base of the plug and pumps it in and out of Wash’s hole once, twice, makes sure he’s nice and fucked loose. The arch of his spine is gorgeous. 

Tucker slicks his cock with lube and then pulls the plug loose to set it aside, instead, teasing the tip of his cock against Wash’s hole. He gestures to Locus, a wordless command that Locus follows without questions, moving to stand in front of Wash and cradling his jaw. 

“You ready for us, gorgeous?” Tucker asks, patting Wash’s hip. It’s a more serious question than it seems. 

“Yeah,” Wash gasps, “Tucker, green, fuck, green.”

“Good boy.” That’s what he wanted to hear. Make sure he’s still okay with this. 

And slowly, Tucker begins to sink into Wash’s body. He’s hot and slick, squeezing around his cock. it’s easier than it might otherwise be, a slow slide of absolute bliss and Tucker thanks whatever deity above for butt plugs. 

There’s a matching groan from Locus, and Tucker looks up just in time to see his eyes flutter closed as Wash’s lips wrap around him and Locus slides into his waiting mouth. Tucker just wishes that he could see both of them, but the view from where he is isn’t half back; the flex of Wash’s ass as Tucker opens him up, the slide of strong muscles beneath skin.

“God, you’re so fucking good Wash,” Tucker says. He rocks his hips forward, fucking into Wash’s heat, and the movement forces him forward onto Locus’s cock. “So hot, so goddam perfect.”

He grips Wash’s hips, his focus narrowing down to the feel of Wash around him, the way he clenches around his cock. Tucker keeps up a lazy pace, dragging it out, feeling every shudder and shift of Wash’s body. He chances a glance up at Locus. Locus whose hands are clenched in Wash’s hair. Locus whose hips are snapping forward as he fucks the other man’s face. Locus whose expression is blissed out and ecstatic, mouth slack and eyes glazed and beautiful.

“You gonna make Locus come, Wash?” Tucker asks, his movements lazy, slower than they had been. he wants this to last. “You’re gonna make him come first, shoot right down your throat while you milk him dry.”

Locus shudders, moans. Tucker is sure that Wash has redoubled his efforts. He has an amazing mouth, whether he’s ordering Tucker to do squats, or sucking cock. “That’s right,” he says, stroking Wash’s flank and punctuating the words with another hard thrust that makes Wash groan. “Get him off. You can’t see his face but fuck, he looks like he’s gone to heaven. You did this Wash, you’re so good.”

The praise seems to do the trick, for both of them actually, or maybe Locus is just wound up from a day spent watching Wash get fucked and played with by the others in the house. Locus comes, and comes hard if his expression is to be believed, hips jerking as Wash swallows around him, drinking him down, tongue working him over until Locus is gasping and pulls away. 

His chest heaves, and then he leans down to kiss Wash hard. Tucker wonders if he can taste himself on Wash’s lips. It’s a heady thought, and with that in mind, he starts to move again, his thrusts harder now, faster, not giving Wash a moment to recover. 

“You gonna tell me who else has fucked you today, Wash?” Tucker asks, his grip tightening on Wash’s hips. “Was it Carolina? Did she wear that big strap on, the black one, and fuck you open?” He gasps as Wash clenches hard against him, squeezing him. Oh yeah, Wash likes that, likes being made to think about what’s been done to him. “Or was it Maine? I bet it was Maine. Bet you got him nice and wet before he slid into your hole. I bet you begged for it.”

Wash moans, the noise desperate. Locus is moving now, kneeling down to do something. There’s a clinking metal noise a second later. The cock cage. He must have taken that off. 

“You’ve been so good for me, Wash,” Tucker says. “Your gonna come so hard. Locus is gonna touch you and you just come as hard as you can.”

It’s mostly babble now, barely coherent, words of praise and affection. Wash tightens around him, again and again as Tucker fucks him, the heat spiralling thicker and higher in him until he comes with a cry, spilling into Wash’s ass. It’s hard enough to leave him gasping, and he has to stand there and shudder for a moment while he recovers.

When he can move again, he pulls out carefully, giving Wash’s ass a pat when he’s done. Locus is on his knees, and Tucker can hear the slurping noises of his tongue as he licks Wash who obviously isn’t gonna last very long.

Tucker walks around him until he can see Wash’s face. Wash looks wrecked in the best possible way. His eyes are open, his mouth is open, drool dribbling down from the corner. He looks at Tucker, trying to form words that don’t come. Tucker seals his mouth with a kiss instead, licking into his mouth and swallowing down the moans and soft noises when he comes. He keeps kissing him as he shudders, as he unwinds and comes undone, left a whimpering mess.

It’s only when he stills that Tucker pulls away. Locus is doing the same, leaning up against Wash’s side to give him the physical contact in the aftermath. Tucker cups Wash’s cheek and strokes it gently. “You okay?”

It takes a moment, but Wash nods. “Yeah. I- yeah.”

“Good,” Tucker says. He leans in to peck Wash on the lips again and then straightens up. “Do you want to stay here, or are you done for the day?”

Wash hums softly, eyes closing for a moment until Tucker taps his nose and drags him back to the here and now. 

“Uh… Bed?” he asks hopefully.

“Whatever you want, Wash.”

They’re both well practiced at unfitting the restraints by now. Carolina had been thorough about training them all. She won’t them use anything unless they know exactly how it works. They have Wash out in short order, and press him between them. 

Tucker sort of wants to shower, but Wash is more important right now. He and Locus guide Wash the short walk to the recovery room. They all have their own spaces, but the recovery room is specifically outfitted for this. There’s a large bed with soft blankets and pillows, huge armchairs big enough for three. Even a sort of hanging enclosed hammock-bed with a curtain that can be pulled over the entrance. 

He and Locus ease Wash onto the bed and climb on, lying down on either side of him. He cuddles up against Locus’s cheese while Tucker grabs water bottles and snacks for them. Locus looks pretty exhausted too. 

“How are you feeling?” Tucker asks.

Wash rolls over and nuzzles against his neck. Blissed out and spacey Wash is particularly tactile, all of those barriers and insecurities gone for the time being.  
Tucker catches his chin, forces Wash to look up at him. “How are you feeling?” he repeats. “C’mon. You know I need to hear it.”

Wash huffs softly, and gives a smile. “Good. Tired. Kind of aching, but good.”

“You’re definitely gonna sleep tonight,” Tucker agrees. “C’mon, make sure you get something to drink.” He hands Wash a water bottle, and then tosses one to Locus. “You too Locus. Can’t have you getting dehydrated.”

They fall into comfortable silence for a while; Locus spooning up against Wash’s back while Tucker feeds Wash bites of chocolate and granola. 

“You did so good for us,” Tucker says when they’re done, when Wash looks as though he can barely keep his eyes open. He steals another kiss and lets Wash lie back down. “You too Locus,” Tucker adds, glancing over at him. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“It was my pleasure,” Locus says. 

“Oh it absolutely was,” Tucker says. He leans over Wash to press a kiss to Locus’s lips. Locus’s breath catches, and then a large hand rests against Tucker’s jaw, cradling his face as he deepens the kiss.

Tucker could easily get worked up again, except for a noise from Wash and a nudge against his stomach. 

“If you’re going to make out, I’m never going to get to sleep,” Wash says, eyes narrowed at them both.

Tucker laughs and ruffles his hair in exactly the way that he knows annoys him. “Cockblock,” he teases.

Wash smirks in a way that promises all sorts of filthy things. “Maybe tomorrow. you know you have to wait your turn Tucker.”


End file.
